


Daddy

by LivviBee



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Daddy Kink, Ficlet, M/M, Masturbation, Peter Parker is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27762181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivviBee/pseuds/LivviBee
Summary: For the Starker Festivals November Event, Falling Into Prompts.I was prompted: First time Peter calls Tony daddy and Tony not realizing he has a daddy kink until then.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 312
Collections: Starker Festivals Falling Into Prompts





	Daddy

It had been a quiet afternoon in the workshop, working companionably with Peter as the hours rolled by and the music ping ponged between their playlists. 

“You know Pete, you really should be more careful, this is the third rip in your suit that we’ve repaired this month.” Tony frowned as he spoke in between sips of coffee, imagining the wounds that would have accompanied the slashes in the high tech fabric.

“Sure thing _Daddy_ ,” Peter quipped, rolling his eyes as he manipulated the suit beneath the laser that was fusing it back together, “I’ll just ignore the muggers with knives and stick to guns instead.”

Tony choked violently on his coffee, jolting the cup which splashed over his shirt and jeans, and startling Peter who raised his head in alarm as Tony coughed and sputtered, dick suddenly rock hard and brilliant mind stuck on the single word like a hamster on a wheel. 

“Mr. Stark, are you okay?” Peter asked worriedly, muscles coiled for action like he was ready to spring over the table and personally perform the Heimlich. 

Waving Peter’s concern away, Tony tried to get a grip on his runaway thoughts, which mostly consisted of the words “ _Peter- Daddy- Fuck, hot, shit-_ ” on repeat. “Went down the wrong pipe,” Tony wheezed weakly, “nothing to worry about, kid.”

Peter didn’t look convinced, but sat back in his seat, still watching Tony with concern.

If Tony had been a younger man, that close scrutiny in combination with his thoughts would have had him blushing; as it was he utilized every ounce of his poker experience to keep his facial expression under control. “I’m just going to change,” he said, carefully setting the coffee cup down and stepping away from the table.

No matter what anyone says, Tony absolutely did _not_ run away from Peter. At most it was an awkward speed walk, hampered by the throbbing erection that had sprung up so surprisingly. Once he was inside the workshop bathroom Tony let out a whoosh of breath and slumped down against the closed door. “What the fuck?” He whispered to himself softly, looking down at his lap with a grimace. Tony sat for several minutes trying to calm down, but the memory of Peter’s sassy toned “ _Daddy_ ” kept flooding through his mind, making his cock twitch with interest. “No.” Tony told himself sternly, categorically refusing to jerk off to the thought of his young, very handsome, mentee with a body like an underwear model.

Finally the aggrieved billionaire sighed and unzipped his pants, freeing his troublesome, still-hard dick. “Maybe just _once_.” Tony thought, “Once is okay, right?” With certain parts of his anatomy on board more than others, he wrapped a hand around his reddened cock, hissing in relief and letting his head rest against the door with a quiet thump. It was like he’d never jerked off before, sparks already flooding his nervous system and heat building in his core after a bare handful of strokes. Tony could tell this was going to be embarrassingly quick, biting his lip to muffle his moans, and mentally replaying the sound of Peter calling him Daddy. He came with a quiet grunt just a few moments later, spilling hot ropes of cum over his hand, savoring the brain-melting pleasure. 

As Tony creaked his way up from the floor and hobbled to the tissue dispenser to wipe up the evidence of his perversion, guilt set back in, smashing into him like a bird flies into a skyscraper window. He could barely meet his own eyes in the mirror as he washed his hands, could barely think beyond shame and self-reproach as he shucked the stained clothes and put on a spare set, flushing the tissues and setting himself to rights. Thankfully, Tony had years of practice going about his normal business while drowning in the depths of self-hatred. He plastered on a carefully neutral expression and made his way back into the workshop. 

Walking up behind Peter and setting a carefully paternal hand on his shoulder, Tony asked, “How’s it going Underoos? All finished up?” 

“Yep!” Peter said, popping the p. “All taken care of here. Are you all taken care of too?”

“What?” Tony asked evenly while his brain flew into panic mode, complete with flashing lights and neon exit signs. 

“Your clothes Mr. Stark, you said you were going to change?” Peter asked innocently. 

Relief flooded Tony’s system at the innocuous response. “Oh! Yes. I’m all good, thanks.” 

“Good,” Peter said grinning sharply as he turned to face Tony directly, “I wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of the day wet and sticky, _Daddy_.”


End file.
